


Scientific Methods

by Heylittleyahtzee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:38:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1421794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heylittleyahtzee/pseuds/Heylittleyahtzee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons has never had a girlfriend quite like Skye. When she finds out just how affected Skye is by her choice of lingerie, Dr.Simmons can't resist the urge to experiment. The only problem is if Skye finds out the study will be contaminated. We wouldn't want that would we?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes Skye's scientific report comments at the end are a direct shout out to #overlyhonestmethods

They'd been dating for three months, sleeping together for two, and Jemma had never ever seen Skye look as flushed as she did when Jemma steppped around the corner into the living room. The others were gone; away for three days on a mission desperately in need of Fitz's engineering expertise. Jemma and Skye would've gone, should've, but the biologic samples from their last alien run-in needed near constant supervision. Jemma had to stay behind, and another agent had to stay with her in case of an emergency. Routine protocol really.

Of course Jemma knew the smirk on Coulson's face when she requested Skye means he knows exactly what she's doing. That's strange in itself because even she doesn't exactly know what she's doing. All she really knows is that last week when she'd forgotten to do laundry and slipped into something slightly sexier, Skye had taken the initiative to give her three sets of consecutive orgasms. Ever since Jemma's mind had obsessed over just how Skye's lingerie interests worked. What colors, textures, and cuts were her favorites? Which of Jemma's underwear sets turned her on the most? Jemma just had to find out. For science of course.

Jemma honestly believed that Skye almost fell off the couch (if not from actual shock then for dramatic affect) when Jemma appeared in tiny black lace panties and a matching bra with little rosettes strategically covering her nipples . The book Skye was reading (Angry Kids Hit Things, lesbians and baseball of course) fell to the floor. Skye was flushed, wide-eyed, and looked about ready to vibrate straight out of her shirt. Ah yes, the effects of some well placed fabric.

Jemma bit her lip to keep from sighing at the look on Skye's face. She had to focus. Behind her back her hands tightened on her scientific journal and number 2 pencil. This was, after all, for science and science was nothing without notes of the experiment. Skye couldn't know she was being studied because her reaction might change the outcome. Jemma didn't think it was going to be that hard to distract her, in fact she was positive it would be easy. She sashayed forward and sat down on Skye's lap. She even made sure to push her breasts forward into the other girl's face in order to set her scientific journal on the little table to her right.

"There's no way I forgot my own birthday," Skye breathed.

"There's no way you forgot we're all alone on this plane," Jemma teased. With practiced ease she flipped the pen in her hand and began to take note of Skye's outward signs of arousal. She noted the tint of the girls cheeks as Skye's arms slid across her hips, the heat of Skye's palms against her stomach as they kissed, the dilation of Skye's pupils as she stared into those gorgeous eyes. It was a damn good thing she could write without looking because Skye was distracting her almost as much as Jemma was distracting Skye in the first place.

  
It wasn't long before Skye noticed the absence of Jemma's other hand and went in search of it. That second one was really important. Without it their activities would be lopsided. She slipped her hand onto Jemma's bicep and it was thrown off immediately.

  
"What're you doing?" Skye whined. She wanted that hand in symmetrical alignment with Jemma's other one, specifically on her chest. Jemma shushed her and tried to move her hand up to the pulse point on Skye's neck. It was the last measurement she needed, and a good thing too because she was starting to get fuzzy around the edges. Skye immediately tried to pull it back down to her breast. Jemma sighed.

"Skye," she whimpered under her breath, just let me take your pulse before I lose my grip! It wasn't normally a sound she made, more annoyed than aroused. Skye noticed immediately and Jemma cursed the world for giving her such a considerate girlfriend.

"What?" Skye asked, pulling back slightly to look into Jemma's eyes.

"Nothing," she whispered as she brought her fingers to that slender and delicious neck. She tilted her head up and nudged Skye towards a still fading hickey. Skye nearly fell for it, her mouth going straight to the spot on Jemma's neck. Over her head Jemma watched the clock. Her teeth were practically drawing blood against her lip, her only anchor in keeping her focus. Skye was making her dizzy. She just needed that last number.

"Wait a second," Skye's voice said through the haze. Jemma looked down and realized that Skye had pulled away from her and put some distance between them.

"Are you taking my pulse?" Skye asked curiously. It was then she noticed Jemma's hand, pressed flat to her journal now.

"And taking notes?" she added in confusion.

"I promise it's not what it looks like," Jemma said quickly. Skye squinted at her.

"It looks like you're experimenting on me with your hot sex clothes," she said matter-of-factly. Jemma turned an even deeper shade of red than she already was.

"Perhaps, but... not exactly?" she tried to sound convincing but failed miserably. Skye scowled at her for another moment before nodding toward the journal.

"Well, write my pulse down," she said. Jemma quickly scribbled the number down and slammed the notebook shut. Skye grinned at her.

"Why do I have a feeling that we have to do this for every single one of your outfits?" she teased. Jemma smirked at her.

"Well you can't just do one test," she sassed back. Skye laughed and ran her hands up to unclip Jemma's bra and toss it to the side.

"Just bear in mind that when we're done with yours we're going to have to do mine, just to keep it even," she whispered into Jemma's ear. Jemma shuddered at the thought of Skye in anything even remotely close to what she was wearing. Skye grinned wickedly.

"And you're still going to take the notes," she said.

If Skye ever got Jemma to moan that loudly again it would be a miracle.

(It was only fifteen minutes later that Jemma was regretting ever attempting the experiment in the first place.

"How are you going to record this?" Skye kept asking, "results inconclusive due to the overwhelming desire to have boobs fondle? Subject was chosen based on her supremely good looks and fantastic abs? Experiment prep interrupted several times by fingers in vagina? I mean seriously how are you going to do it?"

"Shut up and fuck me, Skye," Jemma growled.

"But Jemma, the SCIENCE!")


	2. Chapter 2

Jemma can’t help but flex her fingers. There’s nothing to do with her hands besides rest them on the journal sitting to her right on the small end table Skye dragged over. Jemma is adamant that she’s calm but it’s the kind of calm that comes before the storm, her heart waiting for the sound of the starting gun and her skin already buzzing in anticipation. At least we’re in a hotel room, she thinks, there would not be enough room in our bunks for this.

She adjusts her posture in the sturdy chair and sighs. She doesn’t know why Skye insists on her waiting in the middle of the room in a chair while Skye changes. It’s been almost five minutes and Jemma isn’t sure how much longer she can take. Part of her wishes she hadn’t made the stupid bet with Skye. On the other hand, she never would’ve forgiven herself for turning it down. 

The bet had been Skye’s idea. They’d been lying in bed discussing the terms and conditions of Jemma’s little science experiment when all of a sudden Skye turned to Jemma with the stupidest little smile on her face. Jemma would still take notes on Skye’s choice of lingerie while receiving “the best lap dance you’ve ever seen” as Skye put it, but there would be a catch. 

The rules were simple. Jemma wasn’t allowed to move her hand from her journal or stop writing and Skye wasn’t allowed to kiss Jemma or touch her with her hands. Whoever broke first and touched the other one would lose. The winner got to wear the strap-on.

Jemma shifts in the chair again and thinks about checking on Skye. She has been gone an awfully long time. Jemma is just about to turn around when the bathroom door opens behind her. She freezes, her breath caught in her throat as she waits for whatever comes next. Her hands are still cupped in her lap and she clenches them tightly to keep herself from turning around.

The next thing Jemma knows, Skye’s mouth is next to her ear. She isn’t close enough to be breaking the rules, but she is close enough to send a shiver down Jemma’s spine.

“Start writing,” Skye whispers, “After all, this is for science.” Jemma can practically feel Skye’s grin. She swallows, mouth suspiciously dry, and picks up her pen to note the date and time. Her heart is thudding in her chest so hard she wonders if Skye can hear it. Jemma takes a deep breath and forces her body to calm. She prepared extensively. There’s no way she’s going to lose.

Especially not with the little surprise she has planned for Skye.

Fingers brush her shoulder as Skye grips the chair. There’s not a lot of room to maneuver, so Jemma lets it slide. There’s a soft inhale as the entire room goes still and then Skye steps around Jemma, practically sashays past her, to stand just to the side of her left knee. Jemma is pretty sure her heart has stopped. Her lungs almost explode as she takes a deep breath. This might be harder than she thought.

Skye grins at her and throws her hair off her shoulder with her free hand. She’s got on black with white polka dots see-through panties with ruffles on the back. The bra matches, lace strung out along the bottom to frame Skye’s ribs. She places her other hand mirror to the first on the back of the chair and bends over so her face is hovering just inches over Jemma’s. Jemma has two choices, stare up at Skye’s slightly open mouth and into her devious eyes, or straight ahead at Skye’s breasts.

“Are you ready?” Skye asks in a low husky voice, “I wouldn’t want to throw you off your game or anything.” Jemma bites her lip. Skye certainly is competitive, isn’t she? Jemma knows her cheeks are flushed, her pupils blown out as large as mars, but she just smiles up at Skye, white teeth flashing between bright pink lips. She very carefully lets her tongue dart out, her eyes flitting to Skye’s chest and back up to her eyes again.

“I’ve been ready for ten minutes, darling,” she whispers back. Skye blinks slowly, her grin widening.

“Well then, you better write this down,” Skye moans under her breath. The noise surprises Jemma so much she nearly bites through her lip. The pain reminds her to breathe. Jemma puts her pen to paper and starts to write.

Skye takes this as the signal to start moving. She puts all her weight on her hands and swings her hips forward. Her breasts brush past Jemma’s nose on the way up. Jemma sighs, her hand shaking as she comes face to face with Skye’s taut stomach. Her eyes focus an Skye’s scar, undulating side to side in time with Skye’s hips. Skye’s thighs slide along Jemma’s as she twists her way down onto Jemma’s lap. Suddenly they are face to face again, Skye’s eyes wide and dark as they stare at her.

Jemma can feel the burning low in her stomach and clenches her legs tightly together to rein it in. A glance over at her journal confirms that her handwriting is a mess. Skye rolls her hips forward along Jemma’s legs, just barely coming to her hips, and pulls back. Jemma reaches over to take her own pulse, her eyes still locked with Skye’s. She can hardly breath, can hardly feel anything besides the buzz of her nerve endings as Skye teases away.

Skye rolls her hips forward again. Jemma whimpers and clenches her fist to keep from grabbing Skye around the back of the neck and taking her right there. Skye’s breath hitches in her throat and she rolls her hips a little harder. Each time she gets a little bit farther, a little bit closer. Jemma can feel the anticipation rising in her chest like a firework. She knows she’s going to win, if only Skye would move just a little bit faster. 

The second Skye’s hips roll over Jemma’s, Skye’s eyes go wider than Jemma thought humanely possible. Skye twists and rolls a few more times, her brow knitting together in confusion. Finally she licks her lips and stares at the ceiling.

“Jemma,” she says breathlessly, “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.” Jemma grins triumphantly.

“Why ever would I do that?” she asks innocently, “You know I don’t like lying.” Skye gasps and moans loudly, pressing herself even tighter into Jemma’s hips.

“I cannot believe you,” Skye hisses, “That is SO cheating.” Jemma just shakes her head and writes the last few figures in her journal. She feels so lightheaded that she’s not sure any of them are the right number, but really who was going to care?

“We both knew I was going to win,” she whispers, “I was just being prepared.”

“You haven’t won yet,” Skye insists, even though the words barely squeak out. Jemma simply thrusts her hips up to meet Skye’s, the hard bump on her pants from the shaft of the strap-on pressing into Skye.

“Haven’t I?” she groans out.

“Fuck” is the only thing Skye says before she tangles her hands in Jemma’s hair and yanks her up for a kiss. Jemma cries out in surprise, her hands coming around Skye’s waist and running up and down her back. Skye is still grinding into Jemma and Jemma is still doing her best to reciprocate. Patience is not something they are very good at when it comes to each other. 

Skye somehow finds the time to run her hands down Jemma’s chest and stomach to grab hold of the hem of her shirt. In seconds the poor thing is dangling off the lamp in the corner. Jemma unclasps Skye’s bra and runs her hands over the silky skin underneath the strap until she’s cupping Skye’s breasts in her hands. The pressure of Skye grinding into her lap is driving her crazy. Jemma needs to touch every inch of Skye and she needs to touch her now.

Skye whimpers softly under her breath and reaches down to unbutton Jemma’s pants.

“I really don’t stand a chance y’know?” Skye says between short frantic huffs. She gently pries Jemma’s mouth from her neck and stands to tug the pants off. Jemma looks down at her, mouth hanging open and chest heaving.

“You stare at me like I’m the goddamn sun and I just don’t know what to do with you,” she whispers as she helps Jemma wiggle out of the boyshorts she’s got on. Skye swallows audibly when she sees the strap-on. It’s the one she likes, purple with the ribbed shaft. Jemma smirks at her and reaches forward to tug Skye’s panties off.

“May I make a suggestion?” Jemma asks as she runs the panties down Skye’s long gorgeous legs.

“Sure why not,” she whines as Jemma’s hands cup her ass.

“Ride me,” Jemma instructs. Skye gasps as she’s tugged forward onto Jemma’s lap. Her hands immediately go to Jemma’s shoulders for balance and then her nails are digging in to the soft skin because Jemma is slowly lowering her onto the strap-on and the stretch is so good Skye thinks she might scream. She buries her face in Jemma’s neck instead, soft enthusiastic cries tumbling out of her throat at every new inch pushed into her.

Jemma’s trembling under Skye. All her weight pressed down on the strap-on is doing wonders for Jemma’s clit. She can hardly think enough to guide Skye’s hips up and down, forward and back in little circles that hit her g-spot every time. Skye moans in time with every thrust. Her eyes are closed, forehead against Jemma’s. Jemma leans up and kisses her. Skye can’t help but lick straight into Jemma’s mouth. Jemma sighs and moans over Skye’s tongue. There’s no way they aren’t doing this again. Skye wasn’t kidding when she said she was good at lap dances.

Skye shudders and cries out, every muscles tightening around Jemma, her nails digging in to her shoulders. Jemma pulls her close and helps Skye ride out her orgasm. She grazes her fingers over Skye’s spine and places soft kisses along her jaw. Skye shakes her head and doesn’t stop, her hands coming up to pinch and stroke Jemma’s nipples under her bra. Jemma’s head falls back in bliss, the pressure inside her building until stars are exploding behind her eyes and waves and waves of pleasure are rolling over her. This time it’s Skye who pulls her close and strokes her hair through the stilted gasps and moans she can’t quite get out.

They sit like that for a few minutes, just clutched to each other. Finally Skye smooths Jemma’s hair out of her face and kisses her mouth tenderly.

“My turn,” she whispers, the grin on her face widening into the toothy feral look Jemma knows so well. Jemma huffs out a laugh and helps Skye stand up. The strap-on slips out with a funny noise and they both collapse into laughter. 

It’s only a few minutes later that Jemma is adjusting the harness more securely onto Skye’s hips and tumbling into bed with her.


End file.
